Chapter 50 Wren
WREN
Lena had always been a lot—in the best way. Loud, unapologetically herself, and allergic to anything resembling a filter. She was the type to scream compliments across a parking lot or drunkenly confess her love to a stranger and then swear off men entirely the next morning.
She swore she hated men. Truly, passionately hated them.
But she also talked about them constantly.
Always in theory—like some abstract concept she could pick apart and analyze over brunch mimosas—but the second a man with tattoos and a decent jawline looked her way, she was already planning a fake wedding in her Notes app.
So when Dax pulled up and stepped out of his matte black truck, pushing his long black hair back and throwing the group a lazy smile, I knew we were about to witness something special.
Lena gasped like she’d just seen God. “Who is that?”
“That’s Dax,” I said, grinning at the anticipation rolling through her entire body. “Reed’s roommate and boss.”
“That’s a roommate?” she said, eyes still locked on him. “That’s not a roommate, Wren. That’s a gift. That’s a summer romance. That is the reason I keep deluding myself into thinking men can be hot and not emotionally bankrupt.”
Harper choked on her drink. “You’re a menace.”
“I’m a truth teller,” Lena fired back, already striding toward him like she was approaching a damn red carpet.
Dax raised a brow, clearly caught off guard but amused as Lena came to a dramatic halt in front of him, planting her hands on her hips.
It was cute to watch her short stature bounce in front of him.
Lena had no idea what she was in for. Dax had thirteen years on her, so we will see how far this goes.
“Hi,” she said, eyes narrowed with intention. “Just so you’re aware, you’re stupid hot, and I think I’m in love with you. But don’t worry—I plan to make you fall in love with me and then move out of state.”
Dax blinked, then looked at Reed to ask if she was serious.
Reed just smirked. “Dead serious.”
To his credit, Dax took it in stride. “Good to know. I’ll keep my expectations low.”
Lena lit up. “Perfect. Want to help me carry some stuff so I can stare at your massive tattooed arms?”
I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or hide. That was the thing about Lena—she turned every moment into something unforgettable. And somehow, she always got away with it.
As Dax followed her to the trunk, shaking his head but charmed, Harper leaned close to me and whispered, “Oh, this is going to be so fun.”
I nodded, watching Lena already rambling on to Dax about her interests. “Or a disaster.”
“Either way,” she said, bumping my shoulder, “I’m here for it.”